Lord Have Mercy (The Southern Gentleman Series Book 2) Read online

  I…

  ***

  Something was squeezing me tight, and it was only when Flint’s voice, sharp and worried, barked in my ear that I finally came out of the nightmare.

  I was breathing hard, and I couldn’t get my eyes to focus.

  I was shaking like a leaf, my ears were ringing, and the only part of my body that felt connected to my brain was where Flint was holding me close.

  My head was pounding right along with my heart, and my throat was raw.

  “Breathe, honey.”

  I gulped in a quick breath, trying to force myself to think more clearly.

  It took me six more deep breaths before I finally calmed enough to realize what exactly had just happened.

  Panic attack.

  I hadn’t had one of those since I was twenty-two and a sophomore in college when a pit bull had run up on me when I was jogging and scared the living crap out of me.

  Its owner had caught his escape and called him back, but the damage had been done.

  I’d fallen to the ground in a helpless heap, hands covering my head and curling into a ball in a useless attempt to protect my vital organs.

  That hadn’t happened this time. Flint obviously had sensed something wrong and had grabbed me before I could go into that protective position.

  “I’m okay,” I lied.

  A wet tongue licked my hand, and this time I didn’t freak out.

  I guess, in a way, I’d been expecting it.

  I blew out a shaky breath and looked down into the soulful brown eyes of Dooley.

  He looked sorry to have caused me pain—if a dog could look sorry.

  For some reason, I really felt like he was.

  “You’re not okay,” Flint disagreed. “You’re shaking so hard that I’m sure if I let you go, you’d fall to the ground.”

  I took advantage of the situation—I was a shameless hussy and would take what I could get—and buried my face into Flint’s throat.

  He smelled good—like the shower gel that I’d used in his shower earlier—and for some odd reason being in his arms was a whole lot more comforting than it probably should have been.

  I mean, with as much as we fought, it shouldn’t be this perfect.

  Except, it was.

  And his dog leaning on my leg was perfect, too.

  It was like they were protecting me and all I had to do was let them.

  “She okay?” Raleigh’s soft voice came from behind me.

  I shivered.

  “She’s fine. Just getting her bearings,” Flint rumbled.

  I felt the vibration of his words along my whole upper half.

  “Okay,” Raleigh said. “I’m going to go to our seats. Bring her there when you’re ready.”

  With that, I heard her walk away, and then blew out a breath of relief at knowing we were alone.

  “Did I scream?” I asked worriedly.

  “No,” he said. “You moaned. Panicked and tried to hide, but other than that, had you not been shaking and in my arms, I might not have known anything was wrong with you. You would’ve just disappeared into these shadows and nobody would have thought to look.”

  I inhaled deeply, and blew that breath out, too.

  “It was the dark,” I admitted. “I freak out when I don’t anticipate the touch. Your dog probably thinks I’m crazy.”

  He snorted. “He’s not the only one.”

  I reached up and pinched him on the arm, but still didn’t move from my position.

  “I was talking about Raleigh,” he lied.

  I snorted and straightened my spine, my face coming out of his neck at the same time.

  “Okay.” I breathed one last time. “It’s time for you to get to work.”

  I could practically feel his reluctance at letting me go, but eventually, he did, and I felt freezing cold the instant he was no longer touching me.

  “I guess I really should probably get to work,” he admitted. “Gotta be seen.”

  I smiled, but it came out rather shaky, which he somehow saw in the gloomy darkness surrounding us.

  “I’ll find you after the game is over and we’ll go out for ice cream,” he said.

  I shook my head. “No. I’m on a diet. One you put me on…remember?”

  He snorted. “Rules are made to be broken, honey.”

  With that, he patted me on the ass and walked away before I could so much as squeak out an indignant, “Hey!”

  I found Raleigh about five minutes later, sitting at the fifty-yard line right in the middle of the large crowd.

  My belly instantly revolted.

  I most certainly did not want to climb up in the middle of that mess and act like everything was all right. I was still a bit raw on the inside, and I was still feeling the effects of Flint’s arms around me.

  That was why when Raleigh saw me and looked at me questioningly, I held my phone up to her.

  After tapping out a quick text telling her I was going home, she frowned but nodded at me in understanding.

  I escaped then and tried not to wonder whether Flint had noticed my retreat.

  Chapter 7

  Don’t mess with my kids. I don’t want to have to go all street on your ass.

  -Flint to a drug dealer

  Flint

  “She what?” I asked Raleigh.

  “She left about five minutes after I left the bathroom and her. She’s probably at home,” she answered.

  I sighed.

  “Okay,” I said, pausing. “What’s her address?”

  “What makes you think I should give it to you?” she questioned. “I saw y’all fighting.”

  That was true.

  Ezra snorted. “Foreplay, honey. Foreplay.”

  Raleigh turned her glare on her husband. “Don’t even get me started on you. I’ve had to smell my child all night and let me tell you something, it was gross. A dirty sock? Really?”

  Ezra grinned, then turned to me. “She lives on the corner of Madison and Rowe, in that little blue house that sits on the corner lot. She has a really steep driveway, you know the one?”

  I nodded. I did, indeed, know the one he was talking about.

  The driveway was stupid, and when the builder had built it, I hadn’t thought anybody would ever move in there.

  But, apparently, I was wrong.

  Camryn was obviously one of those people that didn’t give a shit if something was functional or not.

  “Thanks,” I muttered, giving him my hand.

  He shook it and released it.

  “Take care of her,” Raleigh ordered.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I told her. “Good game tonight, Coach.”

  Ezra grinned. “Was fuckin’ excellent, wasn’t it?”

  “That trick play in the fourth quarter made my balls hurt, FYI.”

  I walked away on Ezra’s laugh, heading straight for my cruiser.

  After a quick stop at home to drop Dooley off, I headed to the corner of Madison and Rowe.

  Her house was cute. It actually reminded me a lot of the woman that was currently occupying it.

  Painted a baby shade of blue, there was a brighter blue door that stood out almost blatantly. The mailbox was blue, and even her car was blue.

  The flowers in her front yard, in her neatly-trimmed flower beds, were bright yellow and orange.

  Her grass was cut almost obsessively perfect, and even her driveway was edged beautifully.

  She had to have a yard service, because no woman I’d ever met could make a yard look like that.

  Hell, it wouldn’t surprise me if she had someone out there with scissors.

  But, as cute as it was, it was also inconvenient.

  The house sat up on a large hill, and the driveway leading up to the garage was sloped so severely that I honestly wasn’t sure that it was safe to park a car in the driveway for any length of time. Hell, she had to have one hell of a good emergency brake.

  Parking my cruiser on the street, I got out and hit the door lock button,
thankful that I’d taken off the obnoxious honk that sounded each time I locked it.

  That way, as I arrived at Camryn’s door, she didn’t realize I was there.

  Standing off to the side of the door—which was habit at this point—I knocked and waited until I heard the pitter patter of footsteps heading my way.

  When I was sure that she saw me, I grinned and said, “Let me in.”

  “I don’t know that I should,” came her muffled reply.

  “I think you should,” I told her. “Or are you too chicken?”

  The cutest growl on the planet sounded from behind the door, then she started to unlock her door.

  Honestly, I was expecting a deadbolt and a chain. Possibly the door handle lock.

  What I was not expecting was for her to remove a goddamn bar from the other side, then unlock, unchain, and disarm.

  I blinked owlishly as she swung it open and glared.

  I didn’t miss a beat as I pushed my way inside.

  She didn’t put up much of a fight, though. Instead she backed away and waited until I was inside before relocking, rebolting, rechaining and rearming her security force field.

  I waited until she was completely done before saying, “You look like shit.”

  She burst out laughing. “Thanks for not holding your punches.”

  I winked. “Anything for you, darlin’.” I paused. “Have you eaten yet?”

  She shrugged. “I had a bagel and some cream cheese.”

  “Bagels aren’t on your diet,” I teased.

  “Bagels are my happy place,” she countered. “Plus, I had a bad day and even worse night. I was forced to do something—like go to a football game that I didn’t want to go to—and I needed something that would make me happy. The bagel was it.”

  “What kind of bagel was it?” I asked.

  She smiled sheepishly. “A cinnamon crunch one with pecan cinnamon cream cheese from Panera Bread.”

  My stomach rumbled. “Those are my favorite,” I admitted.

  She snorted. “Those are everyone’s favorite. Luckily, the last time I bought them I froze my last four. I wasn’t sure how they’d do frozen and then thawed, but they were honestly just as good now as they were when I first bought them three months ago.”

  I walked past her into her house, taking in the hardwood floors that looked like they’d been slightly burned, as well as the beautiful white crown molding.

  I stopped when I got to her living room/kitchen area and stared at her fridge.

  “That’s one big ass fridge,” I said. “How much did that set you back?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. It was here when I bought the place. Everything was. I think it was one of those Parade of Homes places that the builder showed off their skills at. Everything about this house is so ultra-modern and beautiful. I love it and all, but sometimes I feel like I’m living in a showroom.”

  “You have to admit the fridge is nice, though,” I said. “I’d kill for that fridge. Do you know how much beer you could fit in there?”

  She snorted. “I know that I can fit an entire half sheet birthday cake in there.”

  She walked over and pulled both doors open, and my mouth fell open wide.

  She knew she could fit the cake in there because she had one in there already.

  “Whose birthday is it?” I asked.

  “Raleigh’s,” she answered. “I’m going over there tomorrow early. We’re going to eat it for breakfast.”

  My brows rose. “You’re going to eat a cake for breakfast? What about your diet?”

  I honestly didn’t care about her diet. She was working out, eating good most of the time, and looking great. If she wanted a cheat day, she should have a cheat day.

  She shrugged. “My diet can go suck a nut. I’m eating, and that’s that.”

  I walked to her fridge and pulled out a beer that was in the fridge door.

  “You don’t mind, do you?” I questioned.

  She shook her head. “No. They’re for a chicken recipe, but I can get more tomorrow.”

  I popped off the lid and took a swig. “I’ll buy you more tomorrow since I’m the one drinking it.”

  She looked at my lips, her pupils dilating, and I felt an answering response behind the zipper of my pants.

  Bringing the bottle away from my lips, I said, “How are you really doing?”

  She licked her lips and looked away from my gaze. “I’m fine. I just always feel really raw after a panic attack. There was no way I’d be able to stay at the game and be able to function.”

  I understood that even if I didn’t like it.

  I would’ve liked to see her more tonight, even if it was only a glance every now and then while I worked.

  I wasn’t sure what was going on with me lately.

  A few weeks ago, it was easy as hell to dislike the woman, but the more time I spent with her, the less that I disliked her, and the more that I wanted to be around her.

  I found her intriguing as hell, and it was getting to the point where I wasn’t sure if this was just a crush anymore or not—if thirty-four-year-old men could have ‘crushes.’

  “I get so fucking tired after one of those. I’m not sure if it’s normal or not.”

  I shrugged. “I wouldn’t know, honestly. I’ve never had a panic attack or seen someone have a panic attack before today. I have to say, though, if I never see it again, I’ll be okay.”

  She grinned at me, causing my heart to stall out in my chest.

  Damn, but she was beautiful when she smiled.

  “Are you still hungry?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No. I’m honestly just considering taking another shower and lying on the couch watching a movie.”

  I tilted my head partially to the side. “How about you take your shower, and I’ll queue up a movie. When you get out, we’ll watch it.”

  “Only if you watch the new Avengers movie. I haven’t seen it yet and it just came out on video,” she challenged me.

  I scrunched up my nose. “I haven’t seen it yet because I want to wait for the next one to come out. I’m not a big fan of cliffhangers, and I’ve heard enough about this one to know that it’s about as big of a cliffhanger as you could get.”

  She rolled her bottom lip, and I felt something deep inside my gut twinge at the look on her face.

  “Oh, you’re good,” I teased.

  Camryn snickered, her rolled over lip unable to stay that way when she did. “I’m good. I learned from the best.”

  “Your sibling?” I asked.

  She nodded once, and her face went sad for a few long seconds. “Yeah. My brother. He taught me everything that I know.”

  I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like the answer to my next question.

  “He taught you? Is he no longer around anymore?” I questioned hesitantly.

  She nodded once. “My brother died during the war in Afghanistan. He was on a helicopter that crashed in the mountains.”

  I felt something in my stomach clench at that.

  “I had a friend that died the same way,” I admitted. “I was supposed to be on the same helicopter as him, and when it went down, I felt my whole entire world tilt on its axis.”

  She sniffled. “Yeah. My parents didn’t take it well. Neither did I. But they just sort of…gave up. My mother died of a heart attack a year later, and my father died the same way about six months after her.”

  She’d lost everyone in the period of a year and a half.

  Holy shit.

  “Camryn,” I said softly.

  She shrugged as if it didn’t bother her, but we both knew better. It bothered her a hell of a lot. More than she was willing to admit.

  ***

  I didn’t know how it happened.

  One second, we were watching a movie—one that I really hadn’t meant to watch yet since I knew it was a cliffhanger and the next movie wouldn’t be out until next year—and the next Camryn had fallen asleep with her head in my
lap.

  That was an hour ago, fifteen minutes into the movie.

  Not wanting to watch it anyway and knowing that she wouldn’t notice if I changed it at this point, I turned it off and shifted underneath her, trying to find a more comfortable spot without dislodging her head from where it was resting against my thigh.

  I didn’t want to move her. I liked exactly where she was. I liked the peacefulness I could read on her face after the panic I’d seen on it earlier this afternoon.

  Her eyelashes lay like tiny little fans against the tops of her cheeks. The bags under her eyes looked dark and deep, and I wondered if she’d slept like shit last night or multiple nights.

  My guess it was multiple nights. Bags that deep didn’t happen overnight.

  She probably wouldn’t tell me even if I’d asked.

  I’d had to practically kidnap her to get into her house.

  Finding a comfortable spot, I hooked my foot underneath the coffee table and dragged it to me. Once it was close enough, I shifted both of my feet onto the pristine wood.

  I noticed that about all her furniture. It all looked like she hadn’t so much as used it.

  The difference between her place and my place was comical. Where she had not a single thing out of place—which was a direct contradiction to her car—I had shit everywhere. I folded my clothes on the couch, and most of the time I just left them there, too.

  My kitchen counters had papers everywhere and let’s not even get me started on my fucking desk. My office, in general, was a goddamn nightmare.

  While Camryn was changing into the sweatpants and massive T-shirt that was at least five sizes too big for her, I’d taken a look through the rest of her place. It looked unused.

  The desk was there. The shelves were lined with books. But the books looked unread.

  I flipped the channel to the History channel, stopping short when I saw the Vikings show my sister loved.

  Me, I didn’t see the big deal. Honestly, it was a good show, but I didn’t see the reason for the complete and utter devotion that so many women gave to it—least of all my sister.

  She would say, ‘But, Flint, look at all the beards!’ She had said that so many times before she had begun to annoy me.

  But, since I’d gone through the entirety of Camryn’s cable subscription and didn’t see a single thing I wanted to watch more, I set the remote down on the edge of the couch and shifted slightly once more.